


The Idiot

by maggief



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-08
Updated: 2012-04-08
Packaged: 2017-11-03 06:30:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/378354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maggief/pseuds/maggief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Hunith doesn't approve. Based off <a href="http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/30557.html?thread=29710173#t29710173">this prompt at kmm</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Idiot

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to stress that my perception of Merlin’s dyslexia is based entirely upon my own experience, and should not be generalised.

Arthur didn’t get nervous. He wasn’t being arrogant, he just didn’t. After a childhood of having the shit scared out of him by Uther’s disapproval, and the adult years since spent in charge of a multinational corporation, it was just a fact of life that Arthur Pendragon didn’t get nervous. He was cool, calm and collected under pressure, he _thrived_ under pressure; he freaking loved it. It was his buzz. Stressful situations, fast paced negotiations, and million pound deals didn’t leave him in a cold sweat, they invigorated him.

And all that would be great, perfect even. Except for one simple fact; he was nervous as hell. Arthur was meeting Merlin’s mother for the first time that evening. Arthur had never done meeting the parents before, had barely ever had a “relationship” before, let alone one where he stuck around long enough to meet the family. Merlin was different though, Merlin made him want to stick around for a very long time, forever perhaps. The fact that it was only one parent on this occasion possibly made it worse, at least if one approved they could persuade the other one round; with one there was no persuading. And Merlin really valued his mother’s opinion. It had only been the two of them growing up, and they were very close. Arthur desperately needed to make a good impression.

Arthur and Merlin had just moved in together, the solid commitment had been what precipitated this meeting in the first place, but Arthur couldn’t help but feel that Merlin’s mother’s opinion may eclipse the last year altogether if it all went to hell.

It started off well, Arthur had taken the afternoon off work in order to start cooking dinner. There were scallops to start, and then a pea and mint risotto, following by tiramisu. The dessert was possibly taking things a step too far, but it was Merlin’s favourite and Arthur loved making it for him; he found it hard to deny Merlin anything really. Hunith had loved both the first two courses, and Arthur was doing well at charming her; telling her anecdotes about work and making her laugh. It was all going perfectly well in fact, until the wait for dessert. Arthur had been in the kitchen for about 10 minutes, trying to get it just perfect, but it was giving time for mother and son to catch up, so it wasn’t so bad. When he returned to the table though, where Merlin was eagerly awaiting the tiramisu, the excitement was clearly too much for him. As Merlin turned round in his chair to watch Arthur enter, his elbow collided with his glass, knocking the wine inside all over the table, and onto the carpet below. Thank god it was white, not red though.

Arthur responded the same as he ever did when Merlin did something clumsy or ridiculous, he sighed but smiled, “Merlin, you idiot.”

Merlin winked at him in return, his back to his mother, clearly remembering the last time there had been wine all over the table. It had been the night they moved in, and they were toasting their new flat, when it had been Arthur who had spilt his champagne, all down the front of Merlin, after he had been distracted by too much kissing. Things had degenerated from there, resulting in Arthur licking the bubbles off Merlin’s bare skin and both of them coming all over their brand new Ikea table. It had been subjected to a good scrubbing down since then, obviously.

Hunith, however, unable to see the laughter and fondness in Merlin’s eyes, had gasped in response. The thing was, the moment Arthur saw Hunith’s reaction, he _knew_ why. He knew Merlin had been bullied at school, teased for his dyslexia and called an idiot by his peers. Arthur knew that; he and Merlin had suffered through a blazing row approximately one month into their relationship after Arthur had called Merlin an idiot one time too many. But that was nearly a year ago now, and completely settled between them. Yes, Arthur called Merlin an idiot, and Merlin called him a prat back in return, but neither of them actually meant it. Merlin knew that, he knew that after Arthur had kissed his apologies into Merlin’s skin, he knew that after Arthur had told Merlin he was the smartest person Arthur had ever met, even if his spelling sucked. Merlin knew it too, and he knew Arthur would always be there to proof read his documents for him when he inevitably cocked them up. 

Unfortunately for Arthur, Hunith didn’t know any of that. All she knew were the countless number of times her baby boy had come home from school crying his eyes out, taunts of idiot and moron and Dumbo still resounding in those rather large ears of his (another important point to mention is how much Arthur loves Merlin’s ears, not necessarily because of their size, but because of the way that Merlin shivers when Arthur lightly bites them).

“What did you just call my son?”

Shit.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Emrys, I was only joking, Merlin knows that.”

“Oh he does, does he? And presumably, he knew that when the children at school stole his shoes and made him walk home in his socks, telling him that an idiot didn’t deserve shoes. Did he know they were only joking then?”

Arthur was lost for words, his mouth just opened and closed helplessly, looking for all the world like a large, overgrown fish. 

“Mum... He didn’t mean it like that.”

“No Merlin, I don’t want you giving excuses for him. I’ve seen this before. This belittling, it’s emotional abuse, that’s what it is, and you shouldn’t stand for it.”

“Mum, don’t be ridiculous!”

“I am not being ridiculous. I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“But I don’t need you to! I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

“Apparently not”, Hunith replied, _sotto voce_. “I’m not having this argument right now. I’m leaving.” She had already stood up and collected her coat before either of the men responded. As she made it to the door Merlin was spurred into action. Arthur was still standing there in shock, silent.

“Mum.”

“No darling, I don’t want to hear it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

With that she left, leaving two men standing alone in a newly furnished flat.

Arthur was eventually able to find his voice. “Merlin, I’m so sorry. I forgot.”

“Oh Arthur. You have nothing to apologise for.”

“No, she’s right. I shouldn’t insult you like that.”

“Arthur. You... You have no idea do you? Every time I hear that word now, even if it’s not you, it makes me smile, it makes me happy. It doesn’t hold any power over me anymore. Anyway, I call you a prat all the time.”

The creases buried into Arthur’s forehead smoothed out at Merlin’s declaration, and he was able to muster a small smile in response. “Yeah, I guess you do. Still, I’m sorry I ruined dinner.”

“Ruined?!” Merlin gasped in mock-horror. “You mean there’s no tiramisu?” 

Arthur laughed, “of course there is,” handing a bowl over. “There you are my dear,” kissing him on the cheek.

“Yeah, I think I prefer it when you’re insulting me. It’s kinda creepy when you’re nice.”

“Oh hilarious. Shut up and eat your pudding.”

Merlin did as he told.

Later when they were lying in bed together, Arthur expressed his concerns to Merlin.

“Do you think I should send your mother some flowers or something? To apologise”

“No, don’t worry about it. I’ll call her tomorrow and smooth things over. It’ll be ok.”

Things weren’t ok, however. Despite Merlin’s best attempts to placate his mother, she refused to listen to him. Over the next couple of months things got steadily worse for all of them.

Often Arthur would come home from work to find Merlin on the phone to his mother, the frustration evident in his tone as his mother tried to persuade him to leave Arthur. She was doing her best to make it happen too, trying to set Merlin up on dates with other men, telling Merlin to meet them because of the career opportunities they could bring. Merlin was trying to be a writer (a dyslexic writer, he really hated himself sometimes). He was currently working in accounts for Pendragon Inc, how he had met Arthur in the first place, and occasionally freelancing for newspapers and magazines, whenever he could sell a story.

Since that night, his mother had introduced him to Geoff, who worked in publishing (he was the tea boy); Alan, who was a published writer (under a female pseudonym writing god-awful teenage vampire fiction); and Gary, a lecturer of creative writing (those who can’t, teach?). It was tedious and pointless. It was frustrating for both Merlin and Arthur. Arthur because who would want their boyfriend going on dates with other men? Merlin because, well, his mother was being ridiculous. He didn’t need to meet these men as prospective dates, nor as employment opportunities. What Merlin’s mother didn’t know was that Arthur’s oldest friend, Leon, worked in publishing. Arthur had introduced them months ago, and Leon had read Merlin’s manuscript almost immediately. Leon had loved it, and it was currently working its way through the obstacles needed to end up on the shelves. He still had maybe a full year before it would be in bookstores, and Merlin wanted to surprise his mother with the done deal. The dedication for the first page was already written; _For my mother, who always believed in my dreams, and for Arthur for making them all come true._. At the moment, he was wishing he could change the first part.

Quite frankly, Arthur was fucking sick of coming home to find Merlin on the phone arguing with his mother. Every night Merlin ended up eating dinner angry and upset, and Arthur had to spend the rest of the night calming him down. It wasn’t fair.

Things finally came to a head on Merlin’s birthday. Arthur had been planning to take him to Paris. Merlin had always wanted to go there, but had never had the chance before. Arthur had booked them both time off work (Mithian in HR had winked at Arthur when he had asked her to clear the days off), and booked them onto the Eurostar. He left work early, beating Merlin home for once, and had their bags packed before Merlin arrived; he still had no idea they were going anywhere. Merlin however, was beaten back to the flat not only by Arthur, but Hunith too.

“Hunith, what a lovely surprise.” Arthur tried not to grimace. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m here to see my son.”

“Merlin’s just on his way home now. However we can’t stick around to chat, we have a train to catch.”

“A train?”

“Yes, I’m taking Merlin to Paris for his birthday.”

“Paris?”

“Yes... In France.”

“I know where Paris is young man. You think that bribing Merlin with gifts and trips will make up for the way you treat him?”

“I treat Merlin perfectly well, I can assure you.”

“Yes, that’s what they all say.”

Before Arthur was able to reply with what would undoubtedly have been an ill-advised retort, he heard the sound of Merlin’s key turning in the lock. Thank god.

“Mum? What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d come and see my only son on his birthday. I thought I could take you out to dinner?”

No she bloody well could not, Arthur thought viciously, we’re going to Paris.

“Unfortunately Hunith”, he cut in smoothly, “Merlin and I already have plans.”

“We do?”

“Yes, we do. And if we don’t leave soon we’ll be late.”

“Don’t you dare tell my son what to do!”

“I wasn’t—”

“Mum—”

Merlin’s mother apparently wasn’t in the mood to listen to either of them though, and within minutes a full-blown argument had formed between mother and son. Arthur tried in vain to interrupt several times, trying to draw Merlin’s attention to their packed bags and passports. He had no luck though. Hunith knew what she was doing, knew they had plans, and she was purposefully doing her best to distract Merlin from noticing. And it was working. By the time the chance to catch their train had been and gone, Arthur had had enough. He grabbed his coat and headed for the door. It was pretty fucking awful listening to someone belittle you for over an hour, no matter what Merlin’s counter arguments were.

“Arthur?”

“I’m sorry Merlin. I can’t listen to this anymore.” And he left.

When Merlin texted him two hours later. Arthur was in the nearest pub. _She’s gone now, it’s safe to come home._ Then _Just saw the bags. Where are we going?_ Arthur sighed and headed back to the flat. They weren’t going anywhere now.

“Paris?” Was Merlin’s first word to Arthur.

He gave his shoulders a tired shrug in response. “Surprise?”

“Paris!” Merlin’s smile widened. 

“I wouldn’t get too excited. We’re not going anywhere thanks to your mother. We’ve missed the last train.”

Merlin’s face fell. “God Arthur, I’m so sorry.” He wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for Merlin,” he replied, burying his nose into Merlin’s neck.

“I really do. I should have put my foot down sooner.”

“Sooner?” His voice was muffled in Merlin’s skin.

“Yeah. I told her I wouldn’t speak to her again until she stopped trying to drive us apart.”

“Oh. Wow.”

“I’m sorry Arthur, I never should have let it go on like this.”

“It’s ok, Merlin, it’s ok.” He had started trailing kisses along the exposed skin of Merlin’s neck. Merlin, however, still had something to say.

“I told her she had to accept you, because I planned on spending the rest of my life with you.”

“You—”

“Will you marry me?”

Arthur stood there in shocked silence for a moment, before recovering. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

“Hey! You do know I’m actually not a girl, yeah?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Maybe I should check...” His wandering hands were already finding their way under Merlin’s clothes, making him laugh.

“Yeah, maybe you should,” as he beckoned him to bed.

They caught the Eurostar to Paris in the morning, and if they spent the whole time there being sickeningly romantic, well no one was around to witness it.

Arthur didn’t see Hunith or speak to her again until the night of Merlin’s book launch. He’d seen her across the room for most of the night, but hadn’t made any effort to go up to her. He really wasn’t sure he wanted to hear anything she had to say to him. She found him eventually though.

“Arthur.”

“Hunith.” His tone was cold at best.

“Merlin...” She glanced around, as if searching for the right words in the room itself so she could pluck them out of the air. “You did this for Merlin.”

“I didn’t do anything, I merely introduced him to the right person.”

Hunith looked unsure.

“Hunith, I’m not quite sure you appreciate how gifted your son is. He’s easily the most talented and most wonderful person I know. The book is amazing.”

“You really think that?”

“Well of course I do. I wouldn’t be marrying him otherwise.”

Hunith didn’t reply to that either, just turned and walked away. The next time they crossed paths was at the wedding. Merlin and Arthur kept their toasts at the reception dinner short.

“Arthur, you’re a prat, but I love you anyway.” Their audience laughed. Many of them had heard Merlin call Arthur a prat at least once. Arthur replied in kind.

“Merlin, you may be an idiot, but you’re my idiot and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Merlin beamed at him in response, and finally, finally Hunith understood.

The End.


End file.
